


Sleep Soundly

by apollosoyuz



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:41:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9113158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apollosoyuz/pseuds/apollosoyuz
Summary: Viktor always falls straight to sleep on airplanes, but it's been years since Viktor has been able to sleep soundly...update: companion piece toIn the Dark





	

The gentle bumps and turns of an airplane always put Viktor straight to sleep. It took Yuuri by surprise as they flew to their first competition; he was listening to his program music, eyes closed, running through his choreography, when he felt the gentle bump of Viktor's head falling against his shoulder. For a moment he sat frozen, afraid to move or even breathe, as if under the piercing scrutiny of a lion that would swallow him whole if he dared stir. This was Viktor Nikiforov after all - the skater Yuuri had idolized his whole life - and they hadn't yet been training together long enough for Yuuri to get over the shock of who his new coach was. Yuuri felt his heartbeat quicken in his chest, suddenly nervous, as if about to step onto the ice in a competition. A flush washed over his cheeks as he looked down into Viktor's sleeping face so close to his own - his perfect rosepetal lips, his skin smooth as silk. The lines of his cheekbones seemed carved from marble.

 

The song he was listening to ended, but Yuuri did not dare move his arm to click repeat, lest he risk jostling Viktor awake. The next song came on, and Yuuri's heart skipped a beat as the familiar opening notes of _Stay Close To Me_ filled his ears. A fear of making even the smallest movement filled him now, intense and hot like white fire in his chest, but he wasn't sure what he was more afraid of; Viktor waking and being embarrassed for falling asleep like this, or Viktor waking and sitting up, breaking the precious contact between them.

 

As he watched, Viktor's angelic sleeping face turned as his brow furrowed with a sharp discomfort. Yuuri carefully pulled out one of his headphones, and in the absence of music he could hear Viktor's breathing catch in his chest, becoming ragged for a moment before smoothing out again. A moment later, Viktor's brow furrowed again, and in his sleep he turned his face closer to Yuuri's shoulder. Yuuri could see a sudden tension jolt through his whole body like a short electric shock, once again catching his breath in his chest, almost as if he was on the precarious edge of crying. Was he in pain? He looked like a child caught in the throes of a nightmare from which he could not escape. Yuuri wondered if he should wake him; if that might ease the sharp pangs coursing through him. But no; Yuuri couldn't bear the thought of Viktor moving away from him - not yet; not then.

 

Slowly, carefully, Yuuri reached out and brushed aside a few strands of silvery hair that were hanging in front of Viktor's eyes. Viktor's breathing was growing more uneven now, and his hand draped over the armrest between their seats clenched into a tight fist. His eyes squeezed shut tight, but his expression was almost pitiful... like that of a child left alone in the dark; a strange mixture of pain and fear and sadness, or something in the indiscernible middle of them all. Through their contact, Yuuri felt the violent shiver that passed first through Viktor's body and then through his own.

 

As if petting a restless child so as to quiet but not wake them, Yuuri gently laid his hand atop Viktor's, slowly rubbing the back of Viktor's hand with his thumb. His touch was so delicate it must have been all but undetectable; his fingers so light and tentative against Viktor's skin. And yet, almost at once, Viktor stirred, turning his hand over to lace his fingers between Yuuri's, grasping at him like a lifeline in cold water - but he did not wake. His hand tightened around Yuuri's palm and he tipped his head closer in to Yuuri's neck, seeking the warmth of his body - or the comfort of it. Yuuri's heart quickened again as he felt Viktor's breath against his skin; warm, yet it sent shivers all through him. And then Viktor sighed, relaxing into the curve of Yuuri's shoulder, his grip on Yuuri's hand loosening but not releasing completely, and the furrows in his brow smoothed, his face once again turning peaceful; angelic.

 

Yuuri did not dare move his hand away, for fear that whatever had been paining Viktor before would return. He held this position for the next hour while Viktor slept soundly, his breath even and slow against Yuuri's neck; his fingers loosely tangled with Yuuri's own. Even after the position grew wearying, and then the stiffness in his arm became painful, Yuuri couldn't bring himself to move. Looking down into Viktor's sleeping face, Yuuri found himself hoping that Viktor would never wake - would never pull his hand away, never separate their interlocking fingers; that he would never take the soft weight of his cheek off Yuuri's shoulder.

 

Finally Viktor stirred again, and this time he woke, and as he raised his head and pulled his hand free from Yuuri's, Yuuri couldn't help but flush red in embarrassment. Surely, Viktor too would be embarrassed at the accidental position in which he had slept....

 

But Viktor only smiled as he straightened his posture, and without a word, he once again draped his arm over the armrest, almost as if hoping that Yuuri would take his hand again.... but Yuuri looked away, too embarrassed to meet the other man's eyes. This was his idol, after all - his childhood hero. And now his coach.

 

Even still, as the airplane passed through a short spurt of turbulence, Viktor's fingers brushed gently against the back of Yuuri's hand - almost as if by accident - almost as if gently, desperately begging Yuuri to hold him again.

 

Yuuri pretended not to notice, and though it sent a stab of yearning through his heart, he quickly pulled his hand away and busied himself with his phone.

 

Viktor looked away too, readjusting his posture and turning his body away from Yuuri to lean on the other armrest instead. Though he turned away, there was no sullenness in his posture - no frustration - only an empty resignation that seemed hollow and cold and sent an ache through Yuuri's heart. Immediately Yuuri regretted what he had done; wanting nothing more than to take Viktor's hand in his once again - to feel the weight of Viktor's head on his shoulder. But it was done, and though nothing was spoken between them, Yuuri felt that Viktor too understood what had passed between them there -- or, rather, what had not.


End file.
